


Time To Go

by Person



Category: Silent Hill
Genre: Bad Ending, Community: fic_promptly, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-13
Updated: 2011-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-26 01:25:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/277021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Person/pseuds/Person
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd had to wait for hours, his broken leg throbbing pain the whole while, but she was finally coming back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time To Go

Douglas thought that it had been a few hours since he'd last seen Heather, though he couldn't say for sure. It was hard to keep track when the throbbing pain of his broken leg seemed to make every minute that passed by drag on and on. He could always check his watch to be sure of the time, but he knew that wouldn't be a good idea; he wouldn't want to risk finding out that the pain had thrown him off so much that it had only been twenty minutes since she'd left him, short enough that there was no chance she'd be close to finishing things with Claudia.

Finally he heard footsteps approaching him through the silent park, and though he drew his gun just in case it turned out to be a monster or Claudia come back to finish him off--not that there was any difference--he knew just from the sound of them that it had to be her.

She stopped when she was still in shadow, cocking her head to the side to study him. "Hello," she said, her voice strangely girlish. Maybe it was a sign that she was finally able to relax, her business in the town finished.

"Is it all over? Did you..." he paused, hesitating to name what she'd wanted to do. She was just a kid, she shouldn't have blood on her hands. "Did you do what you had to?"

"Yes, Claudia's dead. God is again too." She finally came nearer and sat down on the ground beside him. She was carrying her knife, he saw, a sign that even with everything finished she was still as ready for monsters as he was with his gun. But he was pulled out of considering that when she sighed. "Poor little sister. I should have taught her not to pay attention to anything mama or anybody who'd been close to her said. By now it was too late to make her listen."

He turned to question her about what she meant, but the words turned to a sharp his in his mouth when he got a good look at her face. There was a nasty burn there, spreading from her cheekbone to the corner of her mouth, the skin blistered and even peeling back from the flesh beneath here and there. He instinctively reached out to touch it but stopped himself just in time, knowing that it would only cause her pain. "What happened there? Did a monster get you?"

"It's okay," she said instead of giving him any sort of answer. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

"Still, we've got to get you to a hospital," he said, dropping his gun so he could dig his keys out of his pocket and wincing when the movement made his broken leg shift. "And me too. I don't know that I could walk all the way out to the car, think you could bring it out here?" he asked, passing her the keys then admitting, "Though I'm almost tempted to try making it back to the hotel with you. I just want to get out of here."

"You will. I have enough control to make sure you get to move on instead of being trapped here before I have to go back inside," she said, shifting up onto her knees. When he looked at her again the burn seemed even worse than before, disappearing into her hairline and spreading down to her neck, a flash of bone showing through just at the corner of her eyes. He didn't have time to wonder about it before her knife was suddenly in his chest, finding the space between his ribs with such ease that it was like she'd done it before. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice gentle and sincere. Her eyes, he suddenly saw, were black, not Heather's own strange amber-brown. "You're the only thing left that they could hurt her with, if anyone's left who'll try to use us to birth God a third time. She can't learn to love you enough for your death to feed it, she just can't. You understand, don't you?"

"Who..." he managed to croak, through the world was already going dim, "Who are you?"

"You don't know?" she asked, reaching out to stroke his hair as gently as if she were just trying to sooth him to sleep. Her face was now one massive burn, her hair dark with blood or ash or maybe just his dimming vision making it look that way. "My name is Alessa."


End file.
